


Let's Go Home

by cardel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha-mate!Stiles, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Fighting Stiles to get to his mate, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Major Characters deaths, Not Happy, Note the plural people, Possible triggers: syringe and needle use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardel/pseuds/cardel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek’s body begins to blur before Stiles’ eyes.  It’s with a startled realization that he notices, the blurring, is due to the fact that he is crying.  Not only crying but sobbing, wretched pain filled sounds escape from his mouth.  Sounds that are more howls than sobs.  He’s not surprised by this. He began to take on werewolf characteristics the second he bonded with his mate, Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt: **Mental image time. Stiles being dragged out of the room, kicking and screaming and crying and fighting to get back to Derek. Derek lying on the floor, unable to respond, unable to move, dying. Go**
> 
> And unbeta'd once again. I apologize in advance for the mistakes.
> 
> Also, inspired me to make this [photo set at my tumblr.](http://threwcautiontothewind.tumblr.com/post/40313936124/you-told-me-you-loved-me-that-id-never-die)
> 
> You told me you loved me  
> That I'd never die alone  
> Hand over your heart  
>  **Let's go home  
> **  
>  \- King's Of Leon, Cold Desert.

Derek is lying on the concrete floor, four long strides, away from Stiles. Derek’s face is slack, pale, body rigid and unmoving. He, kind of, looks like Laura when he and Scott dug up the remaining half of her body. Dead.

Derek’s body begins to blur before Stiles’ eyes. It’s with a startled realization that he notices, the blurring, is due to the fact that he is crying. Not only crying but sobbing, wretched pain filled sounds escape from his mouth. Sounds that are more howls than sobs. He’s not surprised by this. He began to take on werewolf characteristics the second he bonded with his mate, Derek.

Mate. His mate is dying. Stiles is frozen in place by the feeling of utter emptiness that is beginning to fill the cavity where his heart once beat in tandem with Derek’s. His mate is slipping away from him. Their heart beats are already out of synch. 

Stiles’ body is already feeling Derek’s absence, like a missing limb. Though, stiles would, much rather, be losing a limb. A limb can be replaced by prosthetics, if he’s missing Derek, there is no replacing him. Without Derek, Stiles doesn’t exist.

His sobs echo in the empty room. At some point his knees have buckled under his weight. Unable to muster the strength so stand, Stiles begins to crawl to his mate but no sooner has he made any real progress then Scott is pulling him back.

Scott is yelling in his ear about the location not being safe. Safe. As if Stiles cares. He punches Scott in the face and scrabbles towards Derek but then Boyd is there too. He fights them to break their hold.

Stiles roars in anger and desperation. He fights wildly with no care for finesse. He kicks, punches, makes a bloody mess of their faces as he digs his, not quite, human nails into skin. Skin that breaks and splits under his hands and doesn’t immediately heal because as long as Derek draws breath , Stiles is still the Alpha-mate. Wounds inflected by him take awhile to heal. 

Stiles begins to yell in earnest when he senses Derek’s heart beat weakening even more. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go to him!”

“Stiles we need to get out of here. The hunters are five minutes away and if we don’t leave now they’ll kill us all and Derek’s sacrifice will be for nothing. Is that what you want? Because all he wanted was to keep you safe! Are you really going to throw that in his face?” Scotts yells at him.

All the strength leaves his body; he goes slack in their hands. Boyd and Scott react with werewolf reflexes. Each placing an arm under his arms, supporting his weight, his own arms drape over their shoulders without any real strength.

They take his lack of struggling as acquiesce and begin to take him away. Little do they know that Stiles, with his quicksilver mind, has already formed a plan to get back to Derek and this, is a part of it.

One of the perks of being mated to an alpha werewolf was that his ‘spark’ became a full fledge flame enabling him to cast spells, spells to help the pack, spells to protect the pack, and spells to defend the pack. Spells that usually required blood from him and Derek.

The circle they walk into is no different except, for the fact it was drawn in blood from every member of the pack. The pack that he and Derek have selflessly given everything for, everything. Now, Stiles will let himself and Derek have this one selfish thing.

Without further thought Stiles places his hands at the napes of his two betas and commands, “Sleep.” He allows some of his magic to make his command stronger, unquestionable. 

Their hands quickly fall away from him. Scott has gone to his knees but is fighting the command with heavy eyes. Eyes that are looking at Stiles with betrayal, confusion, desperation and sadness.

Stiles kneels down close to the circle but outside of it. Takes in a shaky breath, “I hope you never have to experience the feeling of your mate dying and knowing that tomorrow and every day after awaits you without them because,” Stiles’ voice chokes off when Derek’s heart skips a beat.

He swallows a heavy lump in his throat, hangs his head and tries to remember how to breathe. He only looks up when he feels familiar fingertips tracing the path his tears have taken down his face.

Looking into his best friend’s eyes he steels his resolve, “It is unbearable, Scott,” he whispers.

Scott nods, pulls his hand back and finally succumbs to the command. Stiles wastes no time in activating the circle sending them back home, to their mates, to safety.

The small journey back to Derek happens in the blink of an eye. Stiles, not so much kneels, but collapses next to Derek. He curls his shaking body over Derek’s prone one and sobs into Derek’s neck. Derek’s heart beat is weakening, his breathing is shallow, the wolfs bane killing his body from the inside.

Derek is struggling for breath now. Stiles is surprised when he feels Derek’s fingers, slowly, running through Stiles’ hair. Derek cradles the nape of his neck and holds him close.

“You bastard,” Stiles chokes out through sobs. 

“You stayed.” If Stiles were operating at one hundred percent, he would note, Derek made a statement not a question. As it is, he doesn’t notice and answers him.

“Of course I stayed. You’re an idiot if you ever believed I would leave without you,” Stiles chokes out.

“Not for a second.” Derek chuckles but it turns into a gasp for breath. Stiles curls tighter over him.

Scared and startled, Stiles lifts his head from the crook of Derek’s neck when he feels Derek tying to shift around. Before he can say anything Derek has pulled out a syringe. A syringe that is full of something. Derek holds it up to Stiles with a shaky hand and tears running down the sides of his face.

“What is this?” Stiles asks as he takes the syringe from Derek.

“Potassium.” Is all Derek says. It is all Derek has to say. 

“How long?”

“Less than a minute.”

“The hunters?”

Derek closes his eyes, head tilted slightly, brow furled in concentration as he tries, with difficulty, to use his weakening senses. “About three,” he finally says.

Stiles swallows and asks one more question. “You?”

Stiles nuzzles into the hand Derek has reached up to cradle his face with. “You already know the answer to that.”

Stiles does know. Derek had told him, mates were for life. Which meant if Derek died Stiles would be sad but could, potentially, with time learn to love someone else. For Derek, as a werewolf, the end of his mate’s life meant the end of his life.

A sob escapes his mouth. Derek’s hold is weak when he tugs Stiles down. Stiles goes without thought of resisting and kisses Derek. Their lips meet soft and slow, unhesitant and familiar. The curve of Derek’s bottom lip caressing his, his tongue teasing, then purposeful. Then again slow, the meeting of lips that share a sliver of air before they meet gently once more.

When they pull far away enough, Stiles uncaps the syringe. He spits out the cap that he has taken off with his teeth. Without hesitation, eyes locked with Derek’s, he lets the needle pierce his skin. 

He depresses the plunger until it is all gone. A lethal dose of potassium is in his blood stream. His circulatory system will make quick work of delivering the potassium to every capillary in his body. It will travel to every capillary feeding his organs, especially his heart and his lungs. The potassium will render them into a state of paralysis that will guarantee the death of his organs and consequently, his own. 

Derek sighs, it sounds pained. Stiles throws the syringe away. He shifts them around so they are lying down facing each other. 

“Are you afraid?” Derek asks the words, ghosts of breaths on his skin where Derek’s lips are touching his forehead.

“Not anymore,” Stiles answers. He feels Derek’s lips moving, the words ‘I love you’ kissed into his skin like a brand.

“Love you too,” he tells Derek. Derek places a hand over Stiles’ heart, Stiles does the same. The touch is grounding. Stiles moves even closer, he tucks his head into Derek’s neck, where it’s wet with Derek’s silent tears. He places a small kiss there and breathes out a steady breath.

His eyes already feel so heavy; it’s a struggle to keep them open, so he closes them. He hears their hearts beating in synch once more. 

Their heart beats are in synch, even if it is in a slow and stalling rhythm. With a hand over Derek’s heart and a smile gracing his lips, he thinks, I’m home. The sound of their, slow synchronized, heart beats lulls him into slumber. When his chest has stopped rising, when he’s endlessly asleep and his heart has stopped beating, Derek’s follows.


End file.
